Hot Pursuit (10 page)

Instead, she moved a little closer to him without taking time to examine her actions. Enough to touch, to rest her hand on one hard thigh. His eyes flashed and for a second or two she regretted her impulse. Her touch might not be welcome when she'd blown hot and cold with him since they'd met. Then heat darkened his green gaze and his voice grew husky.

“What kind of game are you playing with me now?”

She licked her lips. “The grown-up kind. Unless you object.”

“You won't get much of an argument from me, but be very sure this is what you want.”

“I'm sure that you turn me on like nobody I've ever met. I want you,” she said quietly. It felt weird to be unsure of a man's reaction. She needn't have worried.

“I don't think it's a secret that I want you just as much.”

Leaning to her, he took her lips in a sensual kiss. Explored her mouth, slipping his tongue inside to twine with hers. He tasted so good, and his male scent, clean and musky, teased her senses. Her body strained for his, seeking to get closer, and she forced herself to pull back.

“Want to take this to my room?”

“I'd love that.”

Taking his hand, she led him down the hallway. Inside her room, she shut and locked the door, then pulled him to stand beside her bed. They studied each other for a moment, and then he took her hand.

“You're sure about this?”

It warmed her that he'd ask. In spite of the arousal evident behind his zipper, he still thought of her first. “Very.”

She reached for the button on his pants. Her attention never leaving his face, she unfastened them and parted the material. Lowered his pants and briefs until his erection sprang free, and grasped it in her palm as he hissed a sharp breath.

It was hot and silky yet hard underneath the smooth skin. She enjoyed the feel of it sliding through her hand as she started to stroke—and so did Taylor. He widened his stance as much as the restrictive material would allow, tilting his head back and closing his eyes. He made such a decadent picture. So inviting.

Lowering herself to her knees, she flicked the tip of him with her tongue. Tasted the bittersweet precum oozing from the slit. She sucked the head and he turned to putty, holding on to the top of her dresser for support. She loved rendering him helpless. Incoherent.

“Shit,” he breathed. “Stop, or I'm going to come.”

Satisfied, she pulled off him with a pop and pushed his pants and briefs to his ankles. He stepped out of them and removed his shirt, tossing it to the floor.

“Your turn,” he said, lips turning up as he retrieved a condom from his pants.

Quickly, she shed her clothing and discarded it on the floor next to his. Whatever illusion she had that she was in control turned to dust when he walked her backward to the bed, pushed her onto her back, and covered her with his body.

“Can't get enough of you,” he murmured into her lips.

She loved the feel of him on top of her, surrounding her with his strength. Their heated skin was pressed together, his steely cock trapped between them. She wanted him as close as he could get.

“Inside me,” she whispered. “Now.”

This time there was no foreplay. There was none needed. Taking the condom, he made fast work of protecting them and positioned himself between her thighs. As he placed the head of his cock to her opening, he kissed her neck and buried his fingers in her hair.

“You feel so good, baby. So right.” More kisses. He pushed deeper, his handsome face the portrait of pleasure. And when he looked into her eyes, she swore she read an emotion greater than lust.

The significance might have scared her had she dwelled on it, but right then she was carried away on a tide of need as he began to make love to her. His thrusts were languid, every inch of their contact setting her on fire. He treated her as though she was precious, taking her mouth in a slow kiss that curled her toes. Made her feel desired for more than just the sex—for the connection they shared.

His movements sped up and she raised her hips, meeting him eagerly. Higher and higher he took them until her body began to quicken, release building until at last she shattered. Crying out, she clung to him, riding the waves as he stiffened and held her tight. Muscles bunching, he jerked inside her, filling her with heat.

Clinging together, they came down from the euphoria, and he rolled to his back, taking her with him and snuggling her against his chest. Giving in to how good it felt to be so close to him, she laid her head down and listened to his heartbeat. Warm and content, she was drowsing when she felt him begin to shift her to the side.

“Stay,” she said, without a second thought. “Please?”

His voice was laced with regret. “I should go. Blake . . .”

“Is almost twenty-one, and an adult. He knows you're here, and he'll be fine with it.” She smirked. “Besides, you have to watch me all night to make sure I'm all right after my traumatic head injury.”

With a snort, he crawled back into bed and gathered her in his arms once more. “You were right before—you're totally fine. And you're working the system.”

“I know you don't have a problem with that.”

“You do, do you?” he teased. “Awfully confident there.”

“Yep. If you didn't want to be here, you would've left just now.”

He laughed softly. “True. I do have to get up for work, though.”

“Just get up quietly.”

“Damn. The romance is dead already,” he said mournfully.

She leaned up on one elbow to see the playful glint in his eyes. “There's cereal. That's the extent of my cooking in the mornings.”

“Then you have some culinary skills to learn.”

“And you're going to teach me?”

“I'm no expert, but we'll get by.” He kissed her lips. “Now get some sleep. I've done enough to finish wearing you out when I shouldn't have.”

Content that he was staying, she burrowed into his side and drifted off, feeling safer than ever before.

She would count that as something of a miracle.

•   •   •

Light was streaming from the blinds when Taylor awoke. Cara's form was a small lump under the covers beside him, and he couldn't help but smile.

He'd slept well; not even a hint of a nightmare. That was real progress, and he felt ready to handle the day.

And last night, he'd made progress with Cara. She'd asked him to stay, and she'd meant it. Despite her admitted lack of faith in cops, he hoped that meant she was coming to trust him. The chemistry was still there. Now if only the rest would follow, he'd be a happy man.

Careful not to wake her, he eased from the bed, pulled on his pants, and went in search of the cereal she'd mentioned. He considered making breakfast for them all, but Cara had been sleeping soundly and there was no movement from Blake, either. Perhaps he'd pick up some groceries and make them dinner tonight.

Pleased with that plan, he poured a bowl of corn flakes with milk on them, sat at the kitchen table, and ate while checking his work e-mail and texts. There were a couple of e-mails from Shane saying there was no word yet on the SUV they were looking for. It hadn't appeared at any body shop. There was still no description of the driver, either.

Pushing aside his frustration, he finished his breakfast and decided to check on Cara. She was still asleep, but he was determined that wouldn't last long.

Lowering the covers, he plastered himself to her from behind, nibbling on her neck. She began to stir, waking from the attention, poking her tight butt into his groin. His dick reacted with enthusiasm, hardening to rest between her ass cheeks. Rubbing her and moaning while he kissed, he wanted to do so much more.

“I can't get enough of you,” he murmured.

“Mmm.”

Reaching around her, he found a breast and pinched one nipple into a tight bead of flesh. It was her turn to moan in pleasure, her body melting for him.

“Wanna fuck you, baby. Can I?”

“Yes,” she whispered. “Please.”

He liked that, how she was so responsive. So open to letting him have his way. Kissing between her shoulder blades, he peppered kisses all the way down her spine. Then he rolled her more fully onto her stomach, spread her legs.

Eating her was a must. He had to feast on the delicious offering, and from her encouraging whimpers, she was totally on board. Settling between her thighs, he flicked the slick lips of her pussy with his tongue, and was pleased when she opened farther.

He licked her like that for a long time, working her into a frenzy. He tasted her clit, teasing the nub, then lapped at her juices like a starving man. There was something naughty about having her facedown like this, submitting to him. He wanted to take it one step further and hoped she was game.

“Ass in the air.”

She got into position, kneeling, shoulders down and her round ass poking up. Begging for more. He was an ass man from the word
go
and was going to get a great deal of pleasure from hers.

“I love your butt,” he said, skimming his palm over one round orb. “It's so tight and smooth. So pale. I'm going to spank it a little, just enough to make your skin a pretty pink. Would you like that?”

“Oh! I—I think so . . .”

Immediately, she poked it out even more, and he chuckled. He'd take that as a yes. With his right hand, he gave a light smack. Just enough to make some nice contact, get her used to his palm. She moaned again, a sound that went straight to his cock and stiffened it impossibly hard. He was purple and leaking, he wanted her so badly. But he'd feed this mutual need first.

“You've never had your ass spanked.”

“Not like this.”

He smacked it again, this time putting some sting behind it. A nice pink hue began to rise on her buttock, and he repeated the process on the other one. She writhed, begging, and he couldn't believe how perfect she was. She was everything he wanted in a sexual partner, a lover. Maybe more, if he was right.

He spanked her with a bit more force, getting her cheeks nice and red. By now she was insensate with desire, and he was fast approaching that level.

“You're so pretty and red. I'm going to slide my cock deep in your pussy and fuck what's mine. Do you understand?”

“Yes! Please fuck me!”

He couldn't hold back anymore. Quickly, he retrieved a condom and took care of protection. Positioning himself behind her, he spread her cheeks and guided the tip of his cock to her wet sex and plunged inside, eliciting a cry of pleasure from both of them.

“Fuck, yes,” he hissed. “You're fucking hot, lady. I'm gonna work you with my cock until you scream.”

He began to thrust in earnest, flesh slapping flesh, his favorite sound in the world. Except for eating out a woman, there was nothing better than drilling deep into a tight, hot, wet sheath. Relishing the feel of it gripping his dick, squeezing the cum from his balls. Milking him until he spurted.

“I'm close!” he rasped.

His balls drew up and the quickening started low in his groin. Spread like wildfire until there was no stopping the orgasm that tore him apart.

“Yes!” With a shout, he came, filling the rubber, suddenly wishing there was no barrier. The idea of coming inside her, bathing her walls with his seed, made him shudder harder than ever.

She cried out, shivering through her climax with him. Gradually they came down together and he held her for a while, still buried deep.

Make that his number-three favorite thing: keeping his cock inside that hot channel as long as possible.

Her breathing evened out again and he smiled, proud of the fact that he'd worn her out in such a nice way. He could've gone back to sleep, too. Unfortunately, he had to work.

Silently, he debated whether to shower here or head home first. A glance at his watch showed he was pushing it on the time. He hated being late, so he'd grab one here.

His pants could stretch another day. The problem was he hadn't brought an extra shirt, and back in Cara's bedroom, a quick sniff test had him grimacing.
Damn.
He didn't have a spare shirt at work, either.

“In the closet,” her sleepy voice mumbled. “There's a couple of men's shirts.”

That revelation gave him an unpleasant, greasy feeling in his gut. “From who?”

But she'd already rolled over and gone back to sleep. Annoyed, he padded into the closet and looked around, wondering where in the hell she'd gotten men's shirts. That guitarist, Jinx, with whom she'd had a brief relationship? Fine, but why had she kept them? The question burned in his stomach.

Chill. A lot of people keep things for no reason.

The shirts were hanging at the back of the closet, jammed in such a way it was obvious they'd been long forgotten. That made him feel a bit better. There were only five or six, and most of them looked too small. But one pullover seemed all right and didn't have too wild of a design on it, so he grabbed the hanger and pulled.

Unfortunately, there was some junk piled behind the shirts. The hem of the shirt caught on a box behind it, and when Taylor yanked the shirt from the rod, the box came with it. Tumbling to the closet floor, the box spilled open—and a black iPhone landed at his feet.

Puzzled, he frowned at the device, trying to think why she'd keep a nice phone like that buried in the back of the closet. Then his detective instincts went on full alert.

The phone was hidden. And when people hid things, especially things like expensive smartphones, there was usually a damned good reason.

Picking up the phone, he examined it. Without hesitation, he powered up the device. A few moments later he was faced with a screen he was surprised wasn't password protected. Stupid of the owner not to encode the screensaver, and good for him. That made it easy to go into the phone's profile and access the number, which was preferable to calling his own smartphone with it. A cop never knew how he might have to defend his actions in court.